


A Wine-Red Mast, Parting the Depths

by waterofthemoon



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ancient Greece, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Historical Inaccuracy, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterofthemoon/pseuds/waterofthemoon
Summary: While the two of them are staying in Greece, Crowley gets her hands on one of the earliest strap-ons. Aziraphale decides that she would, in fact, like to try it out.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68
Collections: Love and Lust Through the Ages Volume II





	A Wine-Red Mast, Parting the Depths

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for Love and Lust Through the Ages volume II, a bottom Aziraphale zine! ❤️ It was such a delight to be a part of this project, and I'm so happy to share this publicly now that exclusivity's ended. Thanks to Faye/IsleofSolitude for the beta!

_Athens, Classical period_

They've been staying in Greece for a while now—over a decade now, at least. Crowley likes the weather and the fashions, and with it being such a center of human development these days, Aziraphale can easily make the case to her side that she ought to stay, too, both to do her job and to keep an eye on her adversary. She's starting to wonder whether Heaven actually cares what she does with her days, but with what she and Crowley have been getting up to… well. Perhaps it's for the best.

This particular day, it seems, will be more of the latter. When she hears the knock on the door, Aziraphale's standing in front of her mirror, holding her hair up and coaxing her curls into taking the hairpins held in her other hand. She sighs, gives up her chignon as a lost cause, and goes to greet her visitor.

Crowley's hair, of course, is perfectly swept back and adorned with a jeweled ribbon winding through it. Her red curls catch the Athenian sun and make Aziraphale think of firelight, of long nights spent wrapped in each other's arms.

"Hello, angel."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale steps aside to let her in, then moves to clear parchment scrolls off the nearest bench so they can sit down. Crowley stops her with a hand on her arm.

"Don't bother," Crowley says with a wicked grin. She leans in and pecks Aziraphale on the lips. "I brought you something, if you're up for trying it. Supposed to be very popular with women like us."

Aziraphale wants to say that there _aren't_ any women like them, not really, but she refrains. Curious, she reaches out for Crowley's satchel, but Crowley pulls it away.

"Uh-uh." Crowley's smile grows and turns even saucier. "It'll be better if I show you. Y'want to?"

It's a sex thing, that much is clear. Aziraphale grows warm at Crowley's suggestion. Crowley doesn't always invite herself over just for sex, but when she does, she's bound to have something adventurous in mind.

"Crowley, it's the middle of the day!"

"Is that a yes I hear?" Crowley dangles the satchel.

"Oh, of course it is, you fiend." She reaches out for Crowley's hand, to lead her to the bedroom, but Crowley stops her again.

"Give me a minute to get ready, will you?" Crowley says. Her eyes glint in the light streaming through Aziraphale's window. "Then we'll see what you make of this."

Aziraphale thinks, given their track record so far, that she's prepared to make quite a lot of whatever Crowley has planned for them.

*

"All right," Crowley says. "I'm ready."

Aziraphale looks up. Crowley's standing in the doorway of her bedroom, hair tumbling down her back, dressed only in an undraped black chiton that's almost sheer with how fine the fabric is. It covers her shoulders but nothing else and falls to either side of her, nearly grazing the floor. Her pert breasts are bared, and below that—

Black leather straps fastened on with knots in the strings, crossing over Crowley's slim, wriggly hips and wrapped around her lower back, just above her bottom. And at the center of them, where Crowley's quim usually is, there's a padded leather phallus of the kind one finds in this region, if one has very good contacts in the right markets.

She looks gorgeous. Divine. A vision that, if they were mortal and believed in such things, Aziraphale would say had been sent by Aphrodite herself.

Aziraphale, feeling a bit speechless and unworthy, crosses the room. "My dear."

"Yeah, nice, isn't it?" Crowley smooths her hands down her bare sides, teasing at the leather. "The craftsman did a terrific job—after I threatened him."

"Crowley, you didn't." Aziraphale attempts a look of reproach, but it's not working, if Crowley's laugh is anything to go by.

"Of course not. I paid him double, what do you take me for?" Crowley drops her voice into a lower register. "I just didn't want to wait. Not when I knew I had you here."

Aziraphale moves closer and lets one hand reach out to touch Crowley's hip, just where the strap rests. Crowley's skin is warm and quivering with anticipation; Aziraphale runs one finger down the length of the leather, then traces the skin next to it, testing the fit of the straps and causing Crowley to suck in a breath.

Her fingers continue trailing a path upwards until they reach the phallus. Unlike the straps, it's covered in red leather, like the ones she's seen in bawdy comedies. Here, Aziraphale doesn't tease; she wraps her hand around it completely and squeezes. The _baubon_ is firmer than she expected, but soft and supple and polished to a high shine. It suits Crowley exactly, and when Aziraphale drags her gaze up, she lets her appreciation show in her face.

"My dear," Aziraphale says again. She drags her hands up Crowley's body and pushes the robe off her shoulders, onto the floor. "What a wonderful gift you've brought me."

"No, I'm supposed to be seducing you," Crowley protests. She doesn't pull away, and Aziraphale doesn't intend to let her. In a voice that sounds almost shy, Crowley says, "You like it?"

"Very much." Aziraphale pushes Crowley toward the bed and sits her down on it, then straddles Crowley's lap. She's not wearing a loincloth under her chiton, so she's able to simply hitch the white fabric up around her waist and rub her slit against Crowley's phallus. "Penetrate me, please."

At that, Crowley balks. "You're not ready yet, are you?"

"Well…." Aziraphale hedges. She does rather want to sit on Crowley's phallus, but not at the expense of her comfort, and if Crowley's offering….

"Let me get you warmed up," Crowley says, interrupting her wandering thoughts. She leans in and lays wet, nipping kisses on Aziraphale's neck. Aziraphale feels herself growing wetter and hopes that Crowley is, too, underneath the toy.

Crowley drops her mouth to Aziraphale's exposed collarbone and resumes her kissing, intense and focused. One of Crowley's hands sneaks between their legs to tease at Aziraphale's slit, while the other tugs impatiently at the folds of fabric resting on her shoulders. "Get this off," Crowley says. "I want to see you. You're so…."

She doesn't finish her sentence, but Aziraphale repeats to herself the words Crowley's only voiced in the safety of their bed, whenever they've taken the chance of spending the night together. _Beautiful. Clever. Erotic._

Emboldened, she climbs off Crowley's lap and undoes her chiton's fastenings, letting it fall away and flutter to the floor. She doesn't miss the way Crowley's eyes rake over her, hungry with longing.

"Come here," Crowley says, reclining back on the bed. Aziraphale crawls into her open arms and meets Crowley's mouth in a deep kiss, one with plenty of tongue and wandering hands.

After a few minutes of this, Crowley pulls back. "I want you"—she kisses Aziraphale's lips again—"to sit on my face, and I want you to look at _this_ while you do it."

There's no question that Crowley means her phallus, even without her accompanying gesture downward. Aziraphale's nethers clench in anticipation.

"Yes." Aziraphale runs her hand through Crowley's curls, then down her front, stopping to caress Crowley's breast and pinch her nipple the way Crowley likes. "Please, do it."

She moves out of the way but stays close enough to help Crowley get comfortable, fluffing and arranging the expensive feather pillows to support her head and neck. Once settled, Crowley crooks two fingers in a lewd gesture. "Well? Are you going to let me get my mouth on you or not?"

Aziraphale blushes but moves up the bed to straddle Crowley's face as gracefully as she can, then sinks down when Crowley gives her a signal to continue.

It is, by far, not the first time Crowley's used her mouth on Aziraphale. They've lain together dozens of times, and this isn't even the first time in this particular position. But even in times when they're assigned to the same place, there's always something novel and unexpected about their encounters, like they're inventing something new just for them.

Crowley runs her tongue through Aziraphale's folds, slides it up to circle her clit. Aziraphale shudders and gasps at Crowley's teasing licks, Crowley's smile against her, Crowley's hands caressing her hips, sweeping down over the outside of her thighs.

"Crowley," Aziraphale moans. She can see the toy jutting up proudly from Crowley's cunt, huge and red.

Just when Aziraphale focuses on it, Crowley's wicked, slippery tongue slides up into her entrance, reminding her of what it will be like when Crowley takes her, and she clenches down with another moan. Crowley keeps licking and sucking her, bringing Aziraphale closer with every swipe of her tongue, every suckle of her lips, every heaving of her chest with the effort she's putting in.

Aziraphale, realizing she's been neglectful in her touch, cups both of Crowley's breasts in her hands and plays with her flushed, pink nipples, making Crowley squirm and work Aziraphale over with that much more vigor. With a sigh of pleasure, Crowley withdraws enough to drag her mouth up to Aziraphale's clit and suck on her there, then returns to the hot pressure of her tongue inside Aziraphale.

It's like being kissed, when Crowley gives it to her wet and sloppy like this. She tightens around her as Crowley drives her to her peak and then pushes her over with a shivery gasp Aziraphale feels down to her toes.

"Mmmm. You're terribly good at that." On another day, she'd like to spend hours with Crowley like this, their faces buried between each other's legs. But they have plans for today, plans she very much wants to get on with, so she extricates herself and lies down next to her.

"It's all the practice," Crowley quips. Their lips meet; Aziraphale can taste the musky sweetness of herself on Crowley's mouth and licks in to taste her further.

"Practice?" she can't help but ask.

"Just you," Crowley promises. "Only ever you."

Crowley leans in again. As they kiss, Aziraphale feels the phallus jutting against her hip. She shifts until it lines up with her slit, sliding against the wetness there.

"Oh? You want something?" Crowley grins against her mouth and angles herself so the tip of it slips between Aziraphale's folds.

"You know very well I do," Aziraphale says. Crowley's hips move just barely against her, teasing her with the toy's girth. Aziraphale's desperate to have it inside her.

"On your back, then." Crowley nudges her over and climbs on top, then drags her fingertips up Aziraphale's sides, just this side of ticklish.

Aziraphale squirms but meets Crowley's eyes, blazing yellow in the afternoon light but showing a hint of nervousness. Crowley's chosen to adopt the phallic attribute before, but she's never done this, never worn something she's had made with Aziraphale's pleasure in mind.

"Ready?" Crowley asks. The phallus presses against Aziraphale's entrance, deeper than before. Aziraphale nods.

With a deep breath, Crowley lines herself up and pushes in, all sleek leather and hot, tight pressure. Crowley was right—without being loosened up, Aziraphale wouldn't have been able to take the phallus inside her, at least not without some difficulty.

Crowley keeps going until she's all the way in, until the harness straps are pressing into Aziraphale's flesh, and then holds there, giving Aziraphale time to get used to it. It's different from being penetrated by Crowley's cock; the toy has more give in some ways and is firmer in others, and the shape is similar but not quite the same. Bigger, for one thing, but she misses the heat of Crowley's skin and hard muscle inside her.

Her phallus is a wonderful substitute, however. When Aziraphale nods again, Crowley pulls out partway, then presses back in, moving in long, languid thrusts and building up a rhythm that Aziraphale feels through her whole body. Little sounds escape her in time with Crowley's movements, filling the room.

"Feels good?" Crowley leans down and dots kisses on Aziraphale's shoulders.

"Yes," Aziraphale moans. "Please, don't stop."

"Good," Crowley says. Her mouth drops to the hollow of Aziraphale's throat, at the very center where her pulse point is, and kisses her there, open-mouthed. "I love hearing you like this. Keep that up for me, will you?'

Crowley pulls back and slams in at a slightly different angle, one that hits Aziraphale just right; Aziraphale can't help the startled moan that follows, nor the way her breath catches when she looks up at Crowley. Crowley's long curls are swept forward over one shoulder, and her breasts heave with effort, and she's beautiful and Aziraphale's, only hers.

She takes Aziraphale, drives into her relentlessly; the whole bed shakes, and Aziraphale gasps and moans with the pleasure Crowley's bringing her, with both the sensation of being filled beyond anything she's taken before and the certainty that she is utterly wanted and cared for. They shouldn't love each other this way—likely shouldn't be doing this at all, but Aziraphale knows what she feels, and for now, she's decided to give in to the recklessness of it.

When she's nearly come again, with Crowley inside her, above her, surrounding her, Crowley slips a clever finger between them and rubs Aziraphale's clit in the circular motion she knows will get Aziraphale there faster than anything. She keeps going until Aziraphale falls apart, until she shakes and digs her nails into Crowley's sides and clenches hard around the toy, spent.

Even after she's come down, Aziraphale lies there, dreamy and indulgent, while Crowley pulls out and starts undoing the complicated knots keeping her phallus in place. Already feeling the loss of her, Aziraphale reaches up to help, and Crowley lets her. 

With gentle touches and careful handling—she certainly wouldn't want to damage it, after all—Aziraphale undoes the ties until she can pull the harness away, leaving Crowley bare in front of her. She sits up and kisses the lines of Crowley's hips, one and then the other.

"What do you need?" Aziraphale asks. She reaches out and lightly touches Crowley's red, swollen clit, and Crowley shudders. "Do you want me to penetrate you?" The phallus sits inert on the bed next to them, still soaked with Aziraphale's fluids; it would be so easy to take it in hand and slide it into Crowley's entrance, but only if she wants.

Crowley shakes her head. "Just this. Just touch me. Please."

She catches Aziraphale's wrist and draws her hand closer. Aziraphale finds the spot unerringly, touches her exactly like she knows Crowley wants, until Crowley is a shaking mess of need and pleasure above her.

Aziraphale lays her mouth on Crowley's breasts, laves them with her tongue; Crowley falls over the edge with a shout, and her long legs snap closed and trap Aziraphale's hand there. Aziraphale touches her through it, slipping her fingers through Crowley's wetness, until Crowley's breathing slows and her thighs fall open.

"Mmmmm." Crowley collapses gracelessly onto Aziraphale and captures her mouth in a languorous, messy kiss. It seems like it could go on forever, like they could just ignore the world and keep on kissing in this bed until the end of eternity, but eventually, they slow and pull apart, and Crowley pillows her head on Aziraphale's chest.

"So? What did you think?" Crowley prods Aziraphale in her side, ever the devil even in her afterglow. "Worth what I paid for it?"

Aziraphale pokes her right back, fingertip pressing into the meat of Crowley's hip. "You know it was. It was positively delicious, having you inside me in a new way." She lets that sit for a moment, then says, "What about you, my dear? Would you ever consider doing that again? You look so wonderful in the harness."

Crowley sits up, eyes blown yellow, and kisses her again. "Angel," she says, "it would be an honor."

*

_London, present day_

Centuries later, after empires have risen and fallen and the end of the world has come and gone, one foggy evening finds them in Crowley's flat. Aziraphale lies on the bed, fully nude, watching Crowley fiddle with the straps of her harness. It's a new, modern one, still her favorite black leather but with silver buckles in place of ties.

Instead of the leather phallus she had in the ancient world, Crowley's gotten a dildo to fit in the harness. It's red, too, but glittery inside and crafted from the finest medical-grade silicone. Crowley loves it, so Aziraphale does, too. She has to admit, there's a certain appeal to seeing it sparkle when Crowley fucks her and it catches the light just right.

"Darling." Aziraphale squirms on the bed, only partly with anticipation. Crowley's kept her waiting long enough that she's starting to feel a bit silly, not to mention cold. "Would you like me to fix it for you?"

"No," Crowley says peevishly. She tugs on the stubborn strap. "I almost have it."

Aziraphale spreads her legs and lets her hand drift down between them, one finger parting her lips. Crowley's eyes snap up, tracking the movement.

"Fine, you win." Crowley lets go of the harness and opens her arms in surrender.

Without changing her position an iota, Aziraphale waves her free hand in Crowley's general direction. The harness obediently fastens itself, every strap and buckle aligned and tightened to fit Crowley perfectly. "There we are."

Crowley smiles at her, lopsided, and joins her on the bed. She swats Aziraphale's hand out of the way and takes over for her, running her fingers through Aziraphale's folds with slow, deliberate strokes. "Suppose I could've done that."

"I suppose you could have." Aziraphale tips her head back against Crowley's charcoal gray pillows, then raises it to meet Crowley's eyes. "But I don't mind. I like getting you all trussed up, as you well know."

"Yeah, I know you do." Crowley practically purrs this, the curve of her smile sliding into a suggestive smirk that drips with fondness.

She finds Aziraphale's clit by touch alone and circles it, keeping her eyes fixed on Aziraphale, who tilts her hips up to encourage her. The touches on her clit are like sparks brought on by Crowley's gentle fingertips. Crowley's cock brushes her folds alongside her hand, tantalizingly close.

"Well, regardless." Seeing as she's at a poor angle for kissing, Aziraphale draws her foot up and caresses the long line of Crowley's leg. Crowley lets out a happy hum in return. "Make love to me, darling. I want you to."

"Yeah." Crowley presses her lips to Aziraphale's hip. "I want that, too. Can't wait to be inside you."

As Crowley gets in position above her and presses in, Aziraphale can't help but think on their first time trying this. So much has changed since then, yet here they still are, alive, happy, and in love.

Crowley bottoms out, the stretch of the dildo filling Aziraphale completely, and she gives herself up to this expression of affection as Crowley moves inside her, flooding the room with their love, again and again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! You can find me on Tumblr as [@waterofthemoon](https://waterofthemoon.tumblr.com).


End file.
